


Foundling

by ShinyGreenApple



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hux has a soft spot, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:42:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26266690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyGreenApple/pseuds/ShinyGreenApple
Summary: A fluffy ficlet about how Hux met Millie.
Relationships: Armitage Hux & Millicent the Cat
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	Foundling

**Author's Note:**

> Spinoff, of sorts, to this [Twitfic](https://twitter.com/shynygreenapple/status/1265039196059811840?s=19)

General Hux’s subordinates never questioned him, and to be fair, he never gave them much reason to. And so it was with impassivity that the unmasked officers watched him board his transport when it was time for them to depart the wretched planet where their contact had insisted on meeting; nothing was particularly awry about his appearance, he looked as bored and smug as ever, and in spite of the droplets of sweat beading his face, the only thing that unsettled them was a high-pitched mewling coming from his coat pocket. The troopers, afforded some freedom of facial expression by their helmets, exchanged quick glances as he passed by, but nothing would ever be said to him.

After his return to the _Finalizer_ , he went about the cycle unhindered even as he uncharacteristically rummaged through a supply closet, producing an empty box and looking at it with the closest thing anyone had seen to a smile on his face, and retreating to his quarters with it, his pocket still screaming.

“Sorry about that,” he winced when he was finally in his quarters with the doors locked. “Last thing you need when you’re in this sort of shape was a bumpy ride.” He swapped his leather gloves out for disposable ones from the med pack in his refresher and delicately extracted the kitten from his pocket, awkwardly shrugging out of his coat and tossing it onto his bed before heading back to said ‘fresher and settling cross-legged on the floor, the first aid kit and a container of fresh water beside him.

It was slow, delicate, and _noisy_ work; the kitten squirmed and wriggled in his grasp, particularly unhappy that he kept swabbing at one crusty eye with wet pads, continuing to cry out in protest the entire time. After several long minutes, he held her up at eye level, satisfied that he had removed the disgusting mess from her eye, and then went to work quickly rubbing her off with sanitizing wipes.

“I know, I _know_ , you’re naturally clean creatures and all that rubbish,” he sighed patiently. “But you’ve had a rough start of it and stars only know what you could be carrying, coming from a place like _that._ There, satisfied?” he asked, frowning at her – patchy fur now soaked, leaving her looking even more forlorn that she had when they started out. But to his own satisfaction, he had not come across any parasites, so that was a positive, at least.

He had also snatched up some ration packets on his way here and now tore one open, squeezing the contents out onto a tea saucer and placing it on the floor, gingerly setting the kitten down beside it. He had never cared much for packaged meat, but it brought a smile to his face when she was quick to dive in, almost literally. He kept having to re-balance her with a gentle nudge of his fingers; she nearly went back end over front with each enthusiastic bite. Her little face was covered with bits of wet meat by the time she was done, but he figured he had already tormented her with the wet wipes enough for one evening.

Once more carefully cradling her in one hand, he returned to his foyer where he had left the box from the supply closet, hastily glancing around the room for something – _anything_ he could use as bedding. He grinned as he spotted his hamper; the cleaning droid hadn’t been by yet.

“This will have to do for now, little one,” he said, lining the box with the t-shirt and boxers he had slept in. “I’ll get a proper bed for you soon enough. If you survive the night,” he added quietly as he gently lowered her into the box. She seemed as if she was at last content, and he headed back to the fresher to get the sonic he had been craving for several hours. He had stripped down to his underwear when he dashed back into his main quarters, quickly retrieving the box containing a half-starved kitten and his dirty laundry and placed it next to the sink. Just in case she climbed out. Or thought he had abandoned her.

Exiting the sonic, he peeked into the box to find her sleeping soundly, belly full and face still coated in remnants of her dinner. Still, he was unsure he had ever seen something so pathetic in his life. He had a bad habit of taking his datapad to bed with him, going over reports and obsessing over plans until his eyelids grew heavy. Tonight was no different, except that the kitten’s box sat by the bedside within arm’s reach.

“Lights, zero percent,” he yawned, putting down the pad at last and stretching before nestling into his pillows and glancing down at his treasure one more time. “I expect you’ll be dead in the morning, won’t you?” he sighed. “At least you can say you had a half-decent last night.”

* * *

She was, decidedly, very much _not_ dead the following morning, or the one after that, or the one after that. After around a standard week, she was strong enough to escape her box and explore his quarters; there thankfully wasn’t much for her to get into, but it didn’t stop her from wreaking havoc any chance she got. The first time he had entered after a long shift and found her missing, he had panicked, his mind jumping to heartbreaking conclusions about what might have happened to her (The garbage chute? Rogue or malfunctioning droid? _Ren_ poking about where he did not belong?) His fears were short-lived and it was with a laugh that he had found her in his closet, having climbed one of his spare coats where she teetered proudly on the shoulder where it hung.

That night, he did not insist on keeping her in the box, but instead pretended not to notice as she leaped onto the bed, claws finding purchase in his sheets, hauling herself up beside and presumptuously walking all over him. Even though he was alone, he stubbornly fought the smile tugging at his lips when she tried viciously attacking his feet beneath the covers. He may or may not have goaded her to continue.

“ _Ow_ , do you mind?” he hissed; she had grown bored of his feet and now lay atop his chest, kneading her weaponized little feet against his skin through his thin shirt. She stopped and looked at him with her bright little eyes, now green and wide and free of drainage, and wobbled closer, flopping down close to his face and burrowing into the heat of his neck. He let himself smile now, softly stroking his fingers over her little body, that now vibrated in earnest contentment.

‘ _You’ve survived,’_ he thought to himself. _‘And you’ll continue to survive. Just like me. Fuck you, Dad.’_

Given his status, it had not been difficult to procure provisions for her quickly; it was not unheard of for higher officers to keep pets, even if none of them would ever admit it. And he was dead set on keeping her a secret, not because he was embarrassed, but because there was precious little of him, of his life, that wasn’t laid bare in the name of duty and service. Millicent, as he had begun to call her, had no idea that he was one of the most powerful men in the galaxy, and even if she had, he was sure she wouldn’t have cared in the least. And it was that, the idea of her indifference, that brought him the semblance of comfort and normalcy that he had lacked for so long. His entire life was ordered, organized, down, almost, to every minute of every day. Millie was chaotic – he never knew when she would sleep through the night, or decide that she wanted to race some invisible competitor around his chambers and wake him out of his light sleep as if her life depended on it.

And he adored her for it. Everything about him, his personality, should have found her abhorrent and vexatious, but just looking at her, even in her moments of bedlam, brought him a sense of calm like nothing else.

To think he had been initially disgusted when he first laid eyes on her, however fleeting that feeling had been. Maybe he had needed her as much as she needed him that day when he found her, quivering, unwell, terrified.

Thin as a slip of paper.


End file.
